Foundation Day Address — Kirby Short

Good morning Principal, Ms Euler, Members of the Old Girls Association, staff and students.

What a privilege to be part of such a significant occasion, amongst a community that had such a profound impact on me.

You could say the Grammar blue runs deep in my veins and has done since birth—literally. When I was born, mum was the Head of Health and Physical Education at BGGS, and we were living on campus next door at Boys Grammar (Brisbane Grammar School) where my dad was Boarding House Master at the time.

We can all attest to the Grammar education that invites experiences to promote curiosity, adventure, balance and independence. Grammar Women are encouraged to be themselves, to seek different perspectives, to dream big, and to explore the unfamiliar.

It was the belief instilled in me from my Grammar experiences that allowed me to depart the picket fence for the final time knowing I was equipped to make courageous choices in the world beyond our gates.

In my story so far, there is a prevailing theme of, choice.

I choose to learn,

I choose to lead,

I choose to challenge.

After all, the grass will be greener where you choose to water it.

My story begins with a softball glove. Perhaps fitting, given the QGSSSA competition farewelled the sport a few weekends ago.

Three words—never be satisfied. This mantra has given me the courage to make choices of integrity, not ease.

When I was a 12-year-old aspiring softballer, I met my hero at a representative camp. She was the pitcher for the American team and an Olympic gold medallist. Before she signed her name, Lisa Fernandez wrote those three words that would ultimately shape me as a person. Never be satisfied—a mantra I have lived by ever since.

It took me a little while to work out this was not to be confused with seeking perfection nor being ungrateful. It does, however, encourage me to always strive to be a better version of myself, each and every day. This innate desire to constantly seek growth and challenge has allowed me to forge a successful career in education, lead a variety of sporting teams, and most importantly, embrace discomfort. For when we are challenged, we are becoming a better version of ourselves.

Today I will share three moments from my story so far—moments defined by choices of courage and integrity.

I grew up in a two-teacher household, with incredible role models for the value of learning. Most people would think it was logical that I too, would become an educator. Quite the contrary—my independent, stubborn and perhaps slightly pig-headed teenage self didn’t want to be told I was ‘following in my parents’ footsteps’ for the rest of my life. I wanted to be my own person.

My academic results enabled a breadth of options for tertiary study. Despite my initially stubborn thoughts of bucking the family trend and some societal assumptions that Grammar girls with my results should study something ‘more’ than Education, I remained true to my passion rather than fearing the judgement of others. As it turned out my parents were exactly who I wanted to be—educators that make a positive difference in the lives of others. A key distinction though, the choice to forge my own path in the public education sector rather than continuing the Harvey-Short Grammar tradition.

The choice my 17-year-old self made to pursue a career in education allowed me to find my purpose. I gain fulfilment enabling others to be a better version of themselves.

While I pursued these opportunities to make a difference as an educator, from HPE teacher to Deputy Principal, I simultaneously chased my aspirations in elite sport.

Picture this. I am standing on the stage at a sold-out Allan Border Field in Brisbane, holding the WBBL trophy for a second time, waiting to give an acceptance speech that was broadcast live on international television.

Truth be told, I was never the best player in any of my teams. Hard worker, absolutely. Team player, definitely. The superstar, literally never.

I enjoyed playing a variety of sports, however, it was Softball that emerged as both my love and priority at a representative level.

The devastation of missing state schoolgirls selection in Year 12 was quickly replaced by the optimism of possibility when I was asked to trial for the U18 QLD Cricket team. Long story short, this opportunity prompted my choice to walk away from Softball to pursue the relatively unknown world of Cricket. And that choice led to a 16-year career for Queensland.

Let us return to a moment in 2017. I was on tour with the Brisbane Heat during the WBBL03 season. It was 10 pm and I was in pyjamas, headed for bed in my Sydney hotel room, when my phone rang. It was the coach. My first thought, he must be calling to drop me for the game tomorrow. Instead, he asked for a coffee the next morning. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much that night!

The next morning, I am greeted by him, our assistant coach and two senior players. They proceed to tell me that our current captain doesn’t want to do it anymore, and they want me to lead our team. The two WBBL seasons prior to this one, I was out of the playing XI more than I was in it. Now they want me to lead the group—really? I silenced the self-doubting part of my brain, and just said ‘yes’.

We missed out on finals that year, but won the competition back-to-back in WBBL04 and 05, under two different coaches—a feat no other team has achieved. Something that would not have been possible had I not made the choice to say ‘yes’ to leading our group, despite my initial fears of failure, because I wasn’t the best player on the team.

Now, imagine this.

It is December 2022. I exit the lift from the commentary box to walk out into the humidity of DY Patil Stadium in Mumbai, India.

More than 60 000 Indian cricket fans are screaming as the first ball in a T20 series between India and Australia is about to be bowled.

In my role as a Deputy Principal in 2021, I had the pleasure of leading more than 200 Year 7 students. In a Term 2 assembly we were exploring growth mindset. They had been set the challenge of learning a new skill, journalling their reflections and filming their progress. Like all good educators, I was positive about the challenge of the discomfort in learning something new, the struggles they would experience, and the satisfaction they would feel once they saw progress.

Two weeks later, I received a phone call from the Executive Producer at Channel 7. He was asking me to be involved as a boundary reporter for 7Cricket on a series between Australia and New Zealand. It was about 12 months since I had retired as a player, I had no media training, and I certainly didn’t love being in front of a camera. The initial response in my head: absolutely not!

Before I allowed those thoughts to exit my mouth, I thought about the 200 Year 7 students I had told to persist when it got hard and embrace discomfort when things are new. So, I silenced that response—the kind of response that comes from a place of fear, rather than possibility—and I chose to say ‘yes’ to the opportunity with Channel 7.

Perhaps my most courageous choice so far, departing my role as a school leader to pursue the unknown world of broadcasting and consultancy. One that has enabled opportunities in multiple countries around the world.

And as I stood there in Mumbai, listening to those 60 000 screaming Indian fans, watching the Australian cricket team, I was reminded of all the choices that landed me in that very spot.

Seventeen-year-old me who did want to be an educator, but wanted to do it my way; the back-to-back WBBL title-winning captain, who wasn’t sure she could be the leader if she wasn’t the best player; the international broadcaster, leadership coach and consultant, who was brave enough to step away from a successful career in education.

We always have a choice. And I choose to never be satisfied.

On 1 February this year, my grandmother turned 100. There was a party and she gave a speech—she is not your average centurion, let me tell you! Among many powerful sentiments shared, there was one that really grabbed me. She said, ‘I hope I will be remembered as a woman, who helped other women’.

Interestingly, this sentiment was shared by several of the Grammar Women I consulted in my preparation for today’s address. From the Dux of the Year level, to a girl who rode a Harley Davidson to Softball fixtures at Redlands, a common thread expressed by many was the sense of acceptance and belonging that comes with being part of this royal blue community.

Like many Grammar Women who have gone before us, let us continue to be the kind of women who help other women.

And may we continue to make choices that challenge the status quo, and maybe, even change the world.